


The Choices We Make

by afullrevolution



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Confessions, Discussion of Racism, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Politics, References to Ablesim, Werewolves are out of the closet, but not accepted, hard choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afullrevolution/pseuds/afullrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rubbing a hand across her face, Erica told Derek that there wasn't a third option. Derek could either lie and tell Stiles that he wasn't interested in him any longer, or he could tell him the truth. Confess that he was a werewolf and lay out the repercussions of staying. </p><p>It's not an easy choice for anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erica's Stance

**Author's Note:**

> Rating for language and discussion of racism, ablism, and hate crimes. References to, but not descriptions of, sex. Not beta'd.
> 
> In some research I was doing, homophobia, the Solingen arson attack of 1993 (xenophobic violence), and passive racism came up.
> 
> Important to note -   
> Isaac is a ten year old kid in fifth grade. He lives with Derek in an apartment complex, right above Erica and Vernon's apartment. 
> 
> In my head, Erica and Vernon are in a relationship, but it didn't actually come up.

"Derek, you still haven't told him? It's been three months. Over one hundred days. You know what that means. There could be severe repercussions for this," Erica's hands twisted the glass in her hand mercilessly, polishing it before setting it together with its shining brethren in neat, tidy rows.

Derek groaned, face in his arms, muttered "I know Erica." He lifted his head from the bar and told her "It wasn't supposed to last. It was casual. It shouldn't have mattered." 

Erica looked at him pityingly, picking up a last glass. "Derek you've never done casual. I don't know why you thought you could start with him. I mean, come on. You pretty much wired to try to form stable, robust connections. You know, what with being a born werewolf and all." She paused to bend down and grab the bucket of limes from the refrigerator, selecting one. Rolling it between her hands she asked "How did this even happen?"

Derek sighed, rubbed his hand over his eyes "How do these things ever happen? Two people run into each other, phone numbers are exchanged, they talk. You know what happened Erica." 

Erica did know. She had dug every sordid detail out of Derek as the ... relationship ... had developed. Erica knew all about how Derek had been picking up a book for Isaac. She was well aware that Stiles had tripped over his own shoe laces and spilled coffee all over Derek as well as the book, effectively ruining both the book's cover and Derek's white shirt. She had heard how Stiles had babbled about making it up to Derek while trying rather ineffectually to dry him off with a cocktail napkin. 

To Erica's great and lasting delight, Derek had admitted that he'd taken Stiles up on his offer because he "really liked how Stiles smelled". Had liked how Stiles had seemed so determined to do the right thing. According to Derek, something about Stiles "had just seemed nice." 

Which was why Erica could smile in remembrance of that admission and tell Derek "You know very well what I mean - and it's not the adorable history of your acquaintance. How did you let it get this far without coming clean. Which, you know, according to the law you are legally obligated to do before you exchange bodily fluids. Because, as the internet banners remind us, lycanthropy is a dangerous, contagious disease. Rather like an STD really." Erica really, really hated those 'public service announcement'. 

Derek pressed his thumbs to his eyes. "I know Erica. It was dumb." Erica snorted. "I just. I didn't want to care who we were. For a little bit, I just was. There weren't any of the normal complications, any question of political stance or supra-human rights. As long as he didn't know, we could just be."

Erica leaned back against the bar, sighed as she watched him. "Derek, for someone who hates people as much as you do, you suck at doing without them. You really, really do." Erica felt torn between laughing at his pain and wanting to cry with him. "It's like you keep collecting us." The silence between them was thick and Erica poured Derek another drink. 

"But seriously, what do you really think is going to happen if you don't say anything and he just finds out? I mean, do you really think you are going to always be able to reign your infamous flashes of temper in? That you're never going to get really excited around him? Never let yourself just be? I bet you already have to fuck him on his hands and knees so that he can't see your eyes flash. 

"And if you don't say anything, if you just keep going, you're not going to be able to introduce him to the rest of the family. Because you can't ask us to pretend to be other than we are behind closed doors. We already have to do that enough on the streets and at work."

Derek looks at her like she's gutted him. "You know I would never ask that."

"I know honey" Erica said softly, patting his arm. "But sometimes shit creeps up on you. Sort of like I never would have thought you would get yourself into this mess in the first place. I mean, come on. You gave me the werewolf speech five minutes after introducing yourself to me. If you had to fuck him, fine. But why not move on? Why not give him a fake number and try to forget he existed?"

Derek frowned at her, shrugged, twisted his glass back and forth in his hands.

"Oh Derek. You are." Erica made a series of rude gestures that implied that Derek was a hopeless moron of the highest order. "You realize that at this point the shit is going to hit the fan in some way or another. You have broken at least three laws by my count. He could prosecute."

"He won't."

"How do you know that? Do you even know his stance on us? If he thinks that we're the dirty, virus carrying bastards that some people think we are?"

"Because. He's not." Derek breathed in through his nose and out again. "He's not like that. He tries to help people."

"Yeah, yeah. Bleeding heart. Lots of people are willing to help the people who they see as their own. It's everyone else - that infamous other - who they have a problem with. I mean, fuck Derek, the Argents give loads of money to battered women's shelters - which I am all for - and yet lobby to see us exterminated. At the very least they want us locked up and tagged." 

Derek glared at her "I know that Erica, don't think I've forgotten." 

Erica shook her head, curls bouncing around her face for moment as she tried to shut out the memories that brought up. She didn't think Derek would ever forget. Could ever forget. She certainly still remembered the sounds of the mob passing by her house when she was all of ten. She had been paralyzed next to the window, terrified as she had listened to the chants. It had been the scene from the Frankenstein movies. Just, with a family of werewolves instead of an undead creation who just wanted to be loved. 

It made still made Erica feel sick sometimes to look at the people passing her on the streets and wonder what their involvement had been. She had asked Derek once how he could still live in the town. He had talked about not giving up, about having to take a stand, even if it was a silent one. But she noticed that there were some stores he never, ever stepped foot in. She avoided those stores too, even if she didn't precisely know why.

Erica touched Derek's hand over his glass. "I know you won't ask us for what we can't give Derek. I imagine it's why we are having this conversation in the first place. Because you care too fucking much - about Stiles, about us. It's also why you have to do something _now_ , something before the proverbial cat sneaks out of the fucking bag and the shit is smeared all over the wall."

Derek's eyebrow twitched and he half-heartedly admonished her "Erica, you know better than to mix your metaphors." He was still fidgeting with his cup, staring at the condescension on the edges of glass as if the drops of water were tea leaves that held the future. 

Erica snatched it away from him and his eyes snapped up to hers, flashing red in a brief surge of indignation. "And you, Derek, know better than to let someone get hurt because of lack of knowledge. I mean, you even gave Isaac the talk - shit, both the werewolf and the sex talk - even though he's all of ten and likely won't understand either of them until he is older. So you know better than to wait to say something until Stiles gets knocked up " Erica smacked Derek upside the head when he snorted. "You know what I mean. Sure, you can't get him pregnant - thank fuck - but the guy might very well get the shit beaten out of him if the wrong person finds out he's bending over for a werewolf." 

Erica pointed a very sharp nail at him and went on "And don't even consider just leaving without a word. It isn't fair to him. What would you do? Move without telling him because your apartment already smells so much like him? Or just tell him that you are heading out for cigarettes - which I am well aware you don't smoke - and watch his eyes go soft and hurt because he can tell exactly what is coming? I can just see him standing next to the door in curlers, bassinet in the background, dinner in the oven. He'd cry softly while you walked away into the night, never to look back but never able to move on." Erica paused with her hand over her heart. 

"You paint a very sordid picture," Derek said dryly. "But I don't think Stiles could get curlers in his hair, it's not long enough." 

"That may be, you would know, but you still can't just walk away. And you can't not go on without telling him either. I mean, have you asked if he wants kids? You might not be able to get him pregnant, but what if he wants to adopt. Then where would you be? The agencies do pretty thorough background checks and you were born into a well known family Derek. You won't be able to slip through the cracks like some of us might be able to manage. So adoption isn't going to happen through any channel he might reasonably expect to be an option. And count surrogacy out. I'm not carrying for you, no matter if you are alpha, you can't ask a werewolf outside the pack, and you can't ask a non-werewolf to carry." 

"I wouldn't ask you to do that" Derek said softly, touching her hand and pealing his glass out of her grip. "Besides, if you ever do decide to have kids, they'd be pack anyhow." 

Erica grinned at Derek before continuing "And what about Isaac? Does Stiles at least know why little Isaac lives with his 'uncle'?" 

"It's not like these things just come up in conversation" Derek growled.

Erica arched her plucked eyebrows at him and agreed that "No, these things wouldn't just come up in conversation. You probably don't say much of anything and he doesn't know that they are _issues_ he should be aware of. 

"I very much doubt that he has ever given the issue of werewolves much thought. We haven't exactly billed top news lately, just our continual splash on the third page. And you wouldn't still be around him if he had gone on a sudden, unsolicited rant about the evils of our kind."

Derek leaned back in his chair and stared a the wall. "Erica, you know that I hate you right now. That I wish all of the world's ills on your shoulders?"

"You keep saying that I'm the colorful one in this small pack of ours, but your curses still brighten my day. I really should keep a list of them." 

Derek glared at her again. She ignored him. it was a smooth sequence perfected over years of acquaintance. 

"The question remains," Erica told Derek finally "do you think Stiles is worth the hassle - and the danger - of letting in. Do you tell him it's over now, or Is the possibility of him choosing to stay worth letting him make his own decision?" 

Derek huffed out a breath. "it would make his life harder."

Erica nodded her head, she knew all about how it made life harder. She knew she was legally required to be registered, that she would never be hired for a government job no matter her qualifications, that she was required to disclose her 'status' to a date, and she wasn't allowed to travel outside of the country. 

The worst though, was how people who found out about her took a step away. It was how she heard people on the streets talk about 'those animals' and how they 'would as soon rip your throat as look at you.' It was how according to some online forums, 'werewovles could always be spotted because they smelled like wet dogs' and 'had a rabid look.' 

But still. There were benefits. Erica had chosen this for a reason after all and she didn't regret it. She refused to regret it. 

All in all, Erica could honestly tell Derek "There may be difficulties, but sometimes the difficulties are worth the gain. They were for me. Sure, Stiles wouldn't be able to get certain jobs, would have a ceiling for advancement. But is career the most important thing for him? I mean, do you think that's what he wants most? Money, prestige?" Derek shook his head. 

But when Erica asked "Does he love his job?" he nodded. She sighed. That might be a problem then. Although, with what she'd heard about Stiles, family and friends might be the greater concern. If Stiles opted to be part of Derek's pack, the association would necessarily impact them. Probably negatively. 

"I am not really seeing a third option Derek. So, either you crush him now by telling him you aren't interested, or tell him the truth."

"Which part of it?"

"All of it Derek. Tell him how you feel and what that would mean if he chooses to stay."


	2. Stiles' Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Isaac mourn the future before asking Stiles to make a choice.

Derek was waiting for Isaac as the kid slouched his way from the school building. He grinned when he saw Derek, hustled just a bit faster (slowed when Derek raised an eyebrow) to wrap his arms around Derek's legs before sliding into the car. 

"School was ok?" Derek asked, pulling away from the curb. isaac shrugged and answered noncommittally. Derek nodded, listened to Isaac's breathing and the tone of his sent. There was no undercurrent of fear, no unusual tension, just the relief to be going home. Derek nodded again and insisted on spending the next hour helping him with his homework before sending him off to the television and his beloved, rather violent games. 

Isaac paused over the machine as Derek started pulling vegetables out of the refrigerator, asked "is Stiles coming over tonight?" The kid smelled hopeful. 

Derek looked at him over the counter. "Do you want him to?" 

Isaac shrugged with as much unconcerned nonchalance as a ten year old could muster. Derek waited. "I like how he makes hot chocolate" was Isaac's answer when it finally came. 

Derek snorted. He knew how the two valued their hot chocolate, huddling together over the pot on the stove as they stirred the damned stuff, Isaac perched on a stool so that he could hold the wooden spoon at the right angle. Stiles had decried Derek's lack of concern when he had refused to make a third around the stove and Isaac had smirked at him, looking content wrapped in his apron.

Isaac was the reason Stiles had been in Derek's apartment at all. After their fourth ... meeting ... Derek had slid out of bed, started pulling his jeans on. Stiles had watched him for a moment before sitting up and pulling his knees loosely to his chest, suggesting in an anxious, off-handed way (a complete failure for unconcern) that "maybe, you know Derek, you could stay and we could ... eat? ... something. Maybe. if you don't ..."

Derek had frozen with his pants barely pulled up to his hips. He'd wanted to climb back in the bed and see what would happen next if he did just stay. Had been suddenly and overwhelmingly curious if Stiles could cook or if he would order out. It was such a mundane thing to wonder that it had knocked Derek off balance. 

Derek still wondered if he would have stayed if circumstances had been different, if the world were something else entirely.

As it was, Derek had reached for the most convenient excuse available and said "I have to go. Isaac will be getting off soon."

Stiles face had twitched down at the name and he'd mumbled "Isaac is your brother? or ..." trailing off as his hands had picked at the sheets. 

Derek should have ended it there, should have just nodded and left. Instead he'd dug his phone out of his pocket, pulled up a picture of Isaac and handed it to Stiles. 

Stiles eyes had gone soft and the downward set of his mouth had melted up while he'd looked reverently at the picture, flipped to the next. Derek knew how well Isaac's smile photographed. "He's yours?" 

Derek hadn't known immediately how to answer. Isaac was definitely his. It was _his_ bite that had turned Isaac and Isaac's welfare was _his_ concern, but Isaac's genetics certainly didn't match. So Derek had settled on shaking his head and saying "He's mine now." 

Stiles had tripped out of the bed, pulled the sheet around his body and told Derek that he would love to meet the kid. "Derek if you are, you know, alright with that?" Stiles had pressed Derek's phone into his hand and told him that he thought it would be "really great if they could all do dinner? I mean, what with the ..." Stiles waved a hand toward the bed, toward his own sheet-covered body "I didn't eat lunch. And I, well, I could eat?" 

Derek's throat had been too dry to even try and say no. Stiles had grabbed Derek's silence as an affirmation, a demand even that Stiles then and there pull on some pants, grab his keys, and herd Derek out to his car. 

The absurdity of the situation was really not lost on Derek. Nor was Isaac's look of surprise when they picked him up from his mandatory swimming lessons.

But the entire situation exemplified his relationship with Stiles. Stiles just always pushed gently, opened doors with an inquiring expression as he talked about things like the various merits of game consoles and desk top computers. He would call up and ask if Derek and Isaac were hungry, suggest that if Derek cooked, Stiles could bring dessert. Derek barely said anything but ask what time he was thinking.

Stiles always asked, told Derek that he was going to take a step, and then took it. Derek, in response, definitely didn't say 'no' and Stiles interpreted any silence as a 'yes' (except in the bedroom, then he demanded to be told all sorts of things). 

For Isaac though, even though it was hard, Derek made a point of responding with words. Because there was no one else there. Because Isaac was his. Because Isaac was in this too. 

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him. You want Stiles to come because my cooking isn't good enough?" Derek asked, standing and stacking the carrots and broccoli on the counter, putting a pot of water on to boil. He started chopping, using the steady rhythm to keep himself calm. Isaac was so sensitive to anxiety, to any change. 

The console announced how ready it was to be used and Isaac very obviously did not look away from the screen. "His desserts are better. You always forget dessert." 

Derek looked at the food spread out along the counter. Derek couldn't very well deny it. He breathed in through his nose and out again, thought perhaps there was a packet of thin mints in the freezer. But then Isaac didn't like thin mints - which was the only reason they had survived. Everything else got demolished. Growing werewolf and all. Ate enough to match three human kids.

Derek put down his knife, wiped his hands on the dish towel and sat down on the couch next to Isaac. He punched isaac lightly on the shoulder and palmed his neck. Isaac glared at him, but relaxed.

"You like Stiles then?" 

"Yeah" Isaac answered simply, squirming on the couch until he could lean into Derek. Derek watched the game for a moment, carding his fingers gently through Isaac's curls. Wondered if he should get out the brush and really work through the tangles again. Stiles was better at it. Better at keeping up a constant stream of conversation to distract Isaac while he gently worked the tangles out.

Derek swallowed. "I'm going to tell him, Isaac. Which means that he might." Derek stopped. Looked at Isaac's frozen hands, watched Isaac's onscreen avatar crash and burn, bullets strafing through the figure's body. Blood filled the image as the character expired in some rather gruesome death throes. 

"Stiles would like the symbolism" Isaac muttered. Derek nodded and pulled Isaac tightly against him. 

They decided to forgo the planned meal, ordered pizza and drowned their sorrow in ginger ale until the late hours of the night when Derek tucked a drooping Isaac into bed at nine thirty. 

Derek looked at the ten texts from Stiles detailing his day, progressing from questions about maybe, you know, meeting up (he could bring to dessert), to inquiring if everything was all right. Had Derek forgotten to charge his phone again? 

Derek took a deep breath, and called him back. 

Stiles voice was a mix of tired, curious, and unconcerned. Derek found himself tracing patterns on the coffee table as Stiles talked about his day, asked if everything was ok. Dere, told him that, yeah, there had just been some ... things. Something had come up and he and Isaac had been forced to drown their respective sorrows. 

Stiles laughed, his voice sounding like it was bouncing through the connection, as he told Derek that he shouldn't be teaching Isaac such terrible habits. The kid was already learning how to scowl. A ten year old had no business learning such a dark scowl. To also learn that it was alright to drown sorrows in ginger ale, that was just a travesty. 

Derek grunted in response. And when Stiles asked if they maybe wanted to do dinner tomorrow, Derek sighed, clutched a throw pillow tightly and worked the necessary words out of his throat to tell Stiles that "they needed to talk."

There was a long silence on the other end during which Derek didn't breath in favor of listening to Stiles' light, quick breaths. Derek could just pick up how Stiles' heart sped up. 

Derek told himself that, if everything had been equal, he at least knew that Stiles had cared at that moment.

"I'll be there in ten. I just have to. You know. Find my keys." Derek could hear things being shoved aside on Stiles' desk, clothes being sorted. "Don't you dare" Stiles was telling him as Derek listened to Stiles' front door close "make any decisions without me. No conclusions, nothing until you've told me whatever it is." The phone went dead.

Derek dropped it on the table, went and stood in the door to Isaac's room, looked at how the night light reflecting in isaac's eyes. 

"You know," Derek told Isaac as he sat down next to him on the bed. He took isaac's hand and placed Isaac's fingers over the pulse on Derek's own neck "that you are amazing, right? That I think you are worth the moon?" They sat for a moment, Derek letting Isaac feel the steady beat of his heart, until Isaac nodded. 

When he was sure that Isaac was calm, Derek asked "You want to go downstairs to Erica's, or you want to listen to whatever happens?" Isaac's hand dropped and his fingers fidgeted on the covers. "I can't prevent you from hearing if you're stay, what with your big ears" Derek flicked the shell of isaac's ear and smiled at him "but it could ... It might not be nice to hear." Isaac shook his head, leaned into Derek. Derek dropped his head against Isaac's curls and the two sat there until they heard Stiles' rapid steps on the stairs, approaching the landing. Derek smiled wanly at Isaac, ruffled his hair, and went to the front door, cursing the world and its unfairness. 

Because whatever the night served Derek, Isaac didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve anything that had been thrown his way so far. 

Certainly didn't deserve to have to deal with Derek and his fuck-ups. If the world was a different place, then Derek might have argued that the increased healing that had saved Isaac's life would have been worth it. As it was, Derek sometimes wondered if biting the kid had been better than letting him ... Derek shuddered. 

But even though Isaac had lived, even seemed happy now, Derek was scared as fuck about what the future might hold for him, for them. Derek would find out if Isaac still wanted to hug him when he realized that he wouldn't be able to get into a good college. When Isaac found out that people were afraid of him on principal and not just because ten years olds were little shits. Derek would see if a grown Isaac was ok with being a werewolf, because ten was not old enough, not really, to give consent to the bite. A problem which Derek hadn't really thought through when he'd finally tracked the kid down and found him ... with internal bleeding from where he'd been thrown and then locked ... 

Derek had to work his fingers out of fists and calm his heart again. They would be fine for now as long as no one looked too closely at them. As long as the Argents didn't realize that Isaac wasn't flesh and blood in the way humans cared about. 

Derek threw the door open.

Stiles had his hand raised to knock, his shirt buttoned incorrectly, shoes on but untied. He looked almost relieved to see Derek, stood there awkwardly for a moment, his eyes wide in surprise, breath coming too fast from having run up the stairs.

They looked at each other and Stiles smiled tentatively. Derek opened the door wider, moved back so Stiles could come in. Stiles toed his shoes off, and went into the living room, stood awkwardly for a moment before he sat stiffly on a chair next to the table. 

"Isaac in bed?" he asked, as if trying for a safe topic.

Derek nodded and sat across from him. He didn't know what to say, how to say it. 

"So?" Stiles finally prompted, kicking his leg under the table. "You're kind of freaking me out dude."

Derek took a deep breath. "There are ..." Derek said slowly, paused to try and find the right words "Some. Things. That you don't know about me. And." Stiles looked curious, looked as if some of his fear was draining out. "I shouldn't have. Waited. To tell you."

"What, you have an STD? I mean, yeah, you should have told me, but we've been safe. I can get tested again, make sure nothing happened." 

Derek's eyebrows twitched. 

Stiles apologized. "That wasn't it, sorry, go on," he bounced his leg under the table, tapped his fingers lightly on the table. 

"Stiles, we've never really talked about politics. Or. Environmentalism." Derek let out a huff of breath.

"Oh my fuck - you're a neo-conservative. Derek, have you thought about the party's stance on gay marriage and adoption? On unions? Labor in this country is way too weak. You're in construction and house restoration, you should know these things." 

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, no. This isn't about gay marriage."

"As in you think you never want to?" Stiles sounded hurt.

"I'm not against marriage."

Stiles flushed. "Oh, ok then. And. You're not, you know, anti-children." 

Derek blanched. Fuck. Erica had been right.

Stiles looked scared. "You don't want kids then? I mean, you have Isaac already. That's enough?" 

Derek sighed. "Stiles, I can't adopt. No agency would accept my application." 

Derek could see Stiles running through the options and he snapped out Stiles name before he could in on another theory. Stiles closed his mouth. Derek waited another beat and asked "I need to know how you feel about werewolves."

Stiles' mouth opened and closed. He looked bewildered and Derek counted it as hopeful that he didn't smell afraid, just confused.

"I haven't really put much thought into the matter. I mean, it must suck, but I don't know much about it. The media isn't exactly reliable on the topic, but I definitely don't like the way the legislature is trending. I don't really see the difference between a werewolf and a guy with a gun for the most part. I mean, I sort of imagine it can be hard not to claw people's faces, what with the things they say. But it rarely happens, and seems provoked when it does. So, anyway, I am for equal rights and all. Although I am not really sure what to say about the possible impact on professional sports. And I definitely don't like how Alison's family is campaigning for changing the legal status of ..."

Derek let out a breath, interrupted. "So you know what it would mean to date one."

Derek could see the situation starting to actually sink in. "You have family who are?" Stiles asked. Derek raised an eyebrow. "You are. I mean. You're a werewolf." Stiles said faintly. They sat, looking at each other. 

"I" Stiles stopped, licked his lips and the bottom dropped out of Derek's stomach. He could hear isaac's low whine from the bedroom. If this was going to be how it went, he needed Stiles out. He didn't need to listen to the reasons about why Stiles couldn't be around Derek again. Couldn't handle the association. Derek would have to start trying to find a new place tomorrow. They could stay with Erica until they worked it out. 

Derek stood up and moved to the door, opened it and looked at Stiles expectantly. 

But Stiles didn't move from his seat, sat there and looked at Derek, kept up the constant tap of his fingers across the table. "No, no. Derek, I'm not leaving. You can't. You can't just say something like that and expect me to have a response at the ready. It's not like I am a politician and I don't have an immediate answer. This is. You're asking me if I am willing to change my whole life and I. I need to think. It's not like you gave me warning."

"What do you think I should have done, given you a card?" Derek asked in a sneer, but he let the door close. Stiles pointed at the seat Derek had vacated and Derek slid back into it. 

"Look, Derek," Stiles said sliding his hands across the table "I appreciate it, I really do, that you told me. You probably thought about threatening to rip my throat out with your teeth if I ever told anyone, you're probably terrified that I could try to take Isaac away. I mean, I would be. And you don't have to worry about that ... I would never ... But it would make sense if it did worry you.

"I mean, given everything, you're practically asking me to be family and it's just a lot to take in right now. Part of me is really thrilled about it, because it sort of feels like you are pulling a Kirk and asking me to share your burdens, to let me help you instead of saying that whole 'I love you' thing. Not that that is exactly what Kirk said. But, I mean. Wow, if that's what this means. Because, man, shit, I really really like you. Even if we barely know each other. Or, maybe know each other, but it hasn't been that long. - what three months now? So yeah, that sort of eclipses a lot." 

Stiles blew out a breath and got up, paced into the kitchen, out again, pointed at Derek and then shook his head. "I need" he muttered to himself and got out the ginger ale, threw a can to Derek. He rooted through the kitchen until he found the thin mints, quirked a smile at Derek and asked "Isaac not like them?" Derek shook his head. 

Stiles ate a cookie, sat back down, bounced his leg, ate another cookie. "Do you mind if I talk some of this through? Because. I wasn't prepared to... and I think if I walk out that door, you won't let me back in." Stiles blew a breath out through his mouth. "I mean, I don't really know what to say. My first response is that I don't care. I like you Derek. And, Isaac, man, he's an awesome kid. Even if I didn't like you as much as I do, I would like how you take care of him. So really, you're ... I like you. I like the thought of what we could be together." Stiles flushed. 

"But man, the ramifications. It's hard. For me, I don't think it really matters. I mean, if they let me go, I can get another job. I could even help you with home repair thing ... oh ... that's part of the reason you do home repair, isn't it? Because you can ... fuck." Stiles looked stricken. "You know, sometimes," Stiles said slowly, burying his face in his hands "people suck. ... Of course you know that."

Stiles took a few shuddering breaths. Derek heard Isaac climb out of bed and saw his bedroom door twitch open. Derek shook his head minutely when Isaac's eyes peered around the doorframe. Isaac vanished and the door shut again. 

"My best friend" Stiles said, lifting his head and looking at Derek again "is dating an Argent. That's going to probably be a problem, isn't it? For him, I mean. Would that be a problem for you? I mean, she doesn't support them, disagrees actually, thinks that her family goes to far, but she's not exactly come out against them. Support by association in a way. I mean, most people are going to think that she agrees, make assumptions about what she thinks just because of her name. It's sort of sad that she can never choose to stand back. Although, I think that's likely part of the problem, isn't it? So many people just shrug and say that it isn't _their_ problem. Fuck, you must hate me right now." Stiles's whole body shuddered, he paused again. 

"It's horrible, really. A part of my brain is telling me that if I stay here, if I don't run away like a coward, my dad is likely going to loose his job as sheriff. It will be really hard for him to win the next election. But, fuck people. If they can't get their heads out of their asses, then they don't deserve to have him." Stiles closed his eyes. "He could always disassociate himself from me. If it came to that." 

Derek dug his fingers into the lip of the table. "I shouldn't," Derek started to say "I should never have asked..." 

Stiles' eyes flew open. "Stop right there Derek. Just, stop. You haven't actually voiced a question and you can't take whatever that question even is off the table. And I want to know what exactly it is that you did put on the table with your declaration. What are you asking me at this point. Right now." 

It was a completely fair question and had Derek shifting in his seat. "Right now I'm asking if going on is even possible. If you are willing to ..."

Stiles mouth quirked to the side. "Fight the world at your side? You know, at various stages in my life, I've already been beaten up for being a nerd and for being gay. I have no idea what I will be getting into with this, because the situation changes almost daily, depending on elections, sometimes depending on the fucking weather." Stiles paused, grabbed Derek's hand on the table and squeezed it tightly. Derek could feel the pulse thumping in the Stiles' thumbs. 

He looked a Stiles' hands, the long fingers of them, the short nails and tiny cracks from the dry weather. 

"You know what I would get, Derek, if I stayed? What might make this worth while?" 

Derek shrugged slightly "All you'd really get would be me and Isaac." 

"That, you know, might just be enough. I won't know if I don't try, but I do know that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't. So this is me saying yes, going on is most assuredly possible. I'll even wear a 'werewolf rights' pin if you want."

Derek smiled slowly, shook his head. Shit, but life had just gotten more complicated. Derek thought it would be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know how to tag this one.


End file.
